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“Nah, can’t see the point, Reedy. You made it pretty clear there were no second chances. She leaves in the morning anyway.”
If that was true, and he wasn’t sure he trusted Bodge, then he had no choice. “I have to see her tonight.”
“Don’t be a fuckwit.”
He growled at Bodge. “That’s the second time I’ve had that advice in the last hour. I think I get it.”
“It doesn’t sound like you get it. She’s different you know. I dunno how to describe it. I’d say older, but without the rock chick gear, she looks younger. She’s better. It’s like she knows who she is and doesn’t have to act it out anymore.”
Jake left the sink, walked into his bedroom, “Bodge, I need to see her,” he came back out again. “I need to talk to her.”
“I dunno if that’s such a good idea. You made it clear it’s over.”
He pressed the top of his head into the hallway wall, leaned into it. “It’s not over. God help me, it’s not over.” He gave his head a thump on the plaster. He needed some way to relieve the pressure. There was silence on the line. “Bodge, are you there?”
He could hear Bodge talking on another phone in the room. He couldn’t make out what he was saying. He waited, frustration kicking a football in his gut, and when Bodge came back on the line he said, “She’s coming to you, Reedy. Good luck.”
Anxiety waited in the flat with Jake. It wrapped its arms around his chest and squeezed to make him short of breath. It beat against his head to make his thoughts scramble, it made his confidence a weak thing cast from flimsy fabric. She was coming to him; here to the flat, to the ants and the flickering bulb; to his life, far less glamorous, far less rich and full of possibility than hers.
He didn’t have a clue what to say to Rielle. No idea if he could get past the hurt of her rejection and the knowledge she no longer needed him. No idea how not to be a fuckwit and screw this up.
When he opened the door to her, he saw the Rielle of his dreamscape. She smiled and colours changed, taking on a brilliance he’d not been able to see without her. In her eyes was the promise of something near to holy; in her body, the concept of heaven. And when she spoke he heard the most seductive music calling to his soul.
She said, “Hello Jake,” just like they were simply old friends meeting up again, like he might happily welcome her.
The loss of her, the change in her, struck him with the unrelenting force of all his old fears and he forgot how to manage them, forgot he’d wanted to see her. He felt the ground cut out from beneath him and panicked, fucking it up by snarling, “What do you want from me?”
Hearing the coldness in Jake’s voice and seeing his defensiveness as he blocked the doorway, Rielle armed herself with a deep breath and steeled herself with courage to see this one last unexpected chance through. With Bodge’s phone call, retreat suddenly became advance. But now, hearing Jake tense and bitter, she was struck again with how much she’d wounded him and how little her apology would mean. It winded her so her voice came out small and uncertain.
“I want to tell you how sorry I am about what I did to you.”
“A little late with that aren’t you?” He forced the words out through a tightly clenched jaw. “Anyway, I heard you at the pub. And I then got it again from my fucking mother. Did you tell her you fucked me over before or after you offered her money?” he snapped, then grinned savagely when she flinched. “Never mind, you’ve done your duty. I heard you. Go home.”
Rielle stood in a circle of light in the passageway outside Jake’s flat. She thought he might slam the door on her. She stood her ground. Anything less than making him understand she was sorry was unacceptable, anything more was unfathomable.
“You haven’t heard me.”
“I heard nothing from you for ten months and now I’ve heard enough.”
There was ice in his stare; there were knives in his truth. She toughed it out. “You wanted to see me. I hoped we might talk.”
“What can we possibly have to talk about?”
“I think you have a lot to say.”
A muscle in Jake’s cheek jumped. He stood with one hand grasping the doorjamb, one fist furled rigid by his side, the knuckles white. He closed his eyes. “I have nothing to say to you.”
Rielle moved fast. She ducked through the door frame and under Jake’s arm making him spin around to face her, making him slam the door and shout, “You can’t be here,” at the same time he was ensuring she stayed.
“Why?” she shouted back. This was where she wanted to be, facing his anger, taking her punishment.
Both hands came up to his head. “Because I can’t take this. I can’t take you.”
“Why?” she baited him.
“You know why.”
Rielle had her hands on her hips, her wolf woman warrior pose, ready for anything. Ready to bleed if that’s what it took to prove herself to him. “If I’ve already broken you, what harm can I do now?” Her voice was hard, her own anger, born of fear, now coming to the surface.
